(A/N: GUYS, I MESSED UP A BIT HERE, THIS IS Chapter 43! DO NOT READ IT BEFORE Chapter 41 T_T. THEY SAME GOES WITH THE NEXT Chapter, IT IS Chapter 44! SKIP THESE, READ THOSE AND COME BACK HERE AGAIN)!!!!

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Hearing his tone, Vara was stunned for a second—literally. This was the first time someone had used such a tone to speak to her.

Although she wasn’t in her true form, she still didn’t expect Emperal to speak as such. But, deep inside her, Vara didn’t feel anything wrong with that.

"Yes, I think this is how lovers talk."

She repeatedly nodded her head, convinced that he had spoken to her in the lover’s language.

And to some extent, it was the truth. Emperal tried as much as he could not to make his words come out as offensive.

But, he was Emperal. Such traits were ingrained in his existence. Thankfully, he wasn’t flicked to death till now.

Vara nodded, and with a wave of her hand. She ended the existence of the miserable beast above.

Thud!

With a thud, his mangled body fell on the harsh ground. Eliciting fearful voices from the remaining three.

"Now what shall we do with them?"

Emperal was lost in his own thoughts of how to use them, after all. Death was useless if it didn’t serve any purpose.

"Boss! I have an idea hehe~!"

Suddenly, Calder spoke, tilting his head. He saw a nasty, evil grin on Calder’s face, which made Emperal cringe inwardly.

"This disgusting bastard."

Still, he did come up with a plan, so he had to hear it. Even Vara became curious and leaned closer.

...

In Draventhar, the Cinderstone Palace. The Grand Hall of the Mighty Dragons was strangely silent and empty today. With just two people sitting across the throne.

On the grand throne, a lean but insanely handsome man sat. His appearance was slightly unsettling, just as his eyes.

They brimmed with overwhelming power...power that could crush anyone beneath. He wasn’t physically imposing, but his aura—that was something else.

Sitting across from him was a woman, sitting cross-legged and sipping a glass of wine. Her appearance matched the man sitting on the throne. But her beauty was transcendent. Even the light mark across her face did nothing to hide how beautiful she was.

The man’s eyes shifted as he observed the woman.

"Seraveth, has your mother’s condition improved?"

He spoke, but despite his words, his tone remained emotionless. It lacked the warmth one would expect when talking about a close person.

The Dragon Princess just shook her head and sighed, "No, father, her behaviour has become more and more erratic as time passes. Yesterday, she had killed the ninety-seventh maid who was sent to serve."

Seraveth said, as twisted as she was. Even she was surprised when she saw her mother’s sudden behaviour. This...this was not normal at all.

The man nodded when he heard those words, "Alright, I’ll handle it. Now go and complete the mission I gave you."

Hearing his words, Seraveth kept her wine back on the table. Wiping her mouth gently, she stood up.

"I won’t disappoint you, father...unlike my mother."

She said, there was a tinge of venom in her tone when she spoke those words. Her voice echoed through the empty hall.

"Good, I expect nothing less. Remember, I need him alive."

"Understood"

Saying that, she vanished from her position. Leaving the man alone. The Dragon Emperor looked at the wine glass beside him. Without hesitation, he took the glass and sipped it.

His emotionless eyes dimmed, replaced by something far more chilling.

"Vraelyn, just you wait. The moment I have that boy in my hands, that’s the moment I destroy your miserable existence."

His voice came out far more dangerous than it should have.

...

Inside one of the largest and most luxurious chambers. The lights flickered dimly today, as if someone hadn’t taken care of them for days.

The entire place carried an eerie aura, so suffocating that even the maids avoided coming near it.

The Chamber of the Dragon Empress. Vraelyn Storm.

Silken drapes hung torn from their golden rods, and the floor was littered with thousands upon thousands of wine bottles; their stench was unbearable. The room had become a wreck, but the chaos was only the beginning.

In the center of the chaos, on a bed too large for a single person...sat the Dragon Empress.

Vraelyn Storm.

Her once magnificent, midnight black hair, the pride of Draventhar...now hung tangled around her shoulders. It was messy, evident from the neglect it had faced.

Her robes, which were embroidered with dragons of pure golden threads, were strained and torn in various places. But, she didn’t seem to have noticed.

Well, she couldn’t care less, even if she did notice.

Downing the nth bottle of liquor in her hands, she then smashed the bottle against the nearby wall.

In her hands, there was a small, arm-length mirror. And beside her, there was a small wooden box. Inside it were some carefully arranged things, a strange contrast from the chaos of the room.

There was a torn strip of black cloth, a single dried lock of hair, dark as ink but tainted silver at the end. There was a wooden training sword, and a...tooth.

Her expression was blank as she looked in the mirror.

"My love...where are you?"

She gently touched the mirror, to which. The mirror glowed brilliantly and...reflected the last thing she wanted to see.

There was a young man with dark eyes, and his face was cold. But there seemed to be a small smile on his face as he talked with a woman.

Her eyes shifted the moment she saw this; they began spiralling at an alarming rate. Her smile died.

"What...what is he doing with that wretched woman? No, no. No, no. H-He’s mine...he always was mine. W-Why is he with that woman!!? He was with me the moment he opened his eyes!"

Her red eyes devoured her entire sclera as a demonic aura oozed from within her body, shaking the entire Cinderstone Palace and the capital.

Her words and expression paled when one saw the things inside the room, aside from the bottles...there were bodies—bodies of the previous maids.

But that was nothing compared to the...corpse hung up at the far end.

It was a young girl, a bit too pretty.

Vraelyn’s intense eyes shifted towards the woman, "My Love, did you forget what happened to the first woman that confessed to you?"

Her jaw opened wide as her eyes glowed darkly, her teeth extended into razor-sharp fangs. The mirror in her hands dimmed lightly as she slowly stood up.

And then, she...laughed. It was a hysterical laugh.

This woman...was a lost cause.